One afternoon Gilcrest, who was so full of the subject of the parson's iniquities that he could think or speak of little else, encountered Dudley, to whom in no measured terms he denounced Stone. Abner would gladly have avoided argument with Gilcrest upon any subject, and especially upon this, which he felt did not concern himself personally; but Gilcrest was not to be evaded.
"You know, Major Gilcrest," said Dudley at last, "that I'm not a church-member, and therefore it is not fitting for me to discuss the question."
"No matter," answered Gilcrest; "you're a man and capable of reasoning, and can surely see the fallacy of this fellow's doctrine."
"But Stone is a personal friend of mine," Abner urged.
"What of that?" asked Hiram. "It's not the man, but his doctrine, that I abhor."
Thus driven to bay, Abner had no alternative but to reply that from what he could learn by his own study of the Bible, Stone seemed to be right. This was literally throwing down the gauntlet to Gilcrest, and the discussion waxed hot and stormy.
"This is a fine way to win the daughter—to be locking horns with the father in theological combat," Dudley soliloquized ruefully as Gilcrest rode off; but he laughed, too, as he thought how little like one "saved by grace" and "sanctified by the Spirit" the old man had appeared as, with frowning brow, loud voice and vehement gesticulation, he had stormed and raved against the offending Stone. "What a fool the old fellow did make of himself," thought Abner; "but not a bigger one than myself, considering all things. 'Never discuss theology with your intended father-in-law,' is a safe maxim for lovers to follow."
Later in the summer, Abner Dudley received from his uncle, Dr. Richard Dudley, of Williamsburg, intelligence of a surprising nature; namely, that an uncle of Abner's mother, Andrew Hite, of Sterling County, Virginia, had died, leaving a will by which Abner was heir to all his worldly possessions.
Richard Dudley urged upon Abner the necessity of coming at once to Virginia in regard to this inheritance. Accordingly, Abner, merely telling the Rogers family that he was summoned to Virginia on important business, set out one August afternoon. He went first to Lexington, and from there on horseback to Limestone. His companions on this horseback ride of sixty-five miles were Judge Benjamin Sebastian and Judge William Murray, against whom Hiram Gilcrest had seen fit to warn him. Nothing, however, of the negotiations and intrigues in which Sebastian and Murray may or may not have been concerned, had at this time been made public; and young Dudley saw no reason why the mere suspicions of so prejudiced a man as Hiram Gilcrest should deter him from accepting the company of two such agreeable men.
Soon after taking the boat at Limestone, Sebastian and Murray told Abner that they intended spending the night at the island home of Harman Blennerhassett, and urged him to do likewise. He readily accepted; for he had heard of this secluded island paradise with its romantic surroundings, beautiful grounds and vast library, and of the gracious hospitality of the scholarly Irish recluse and his charming wife. He found the home and his host and hostess all that had been reported, and greatly enjoyed his little visit. The next day, leaving Sebastian and Murray still guests of the Blennerhassetts, Dudley continued his journey by boat to Pittsburg, and thence by horseback across Virginia to Williamsburg.